She rolled the condom on so fucking slowly, I knew she was still teasing me. So not happening. I brushed her hands away as soon as she was finished.

“My turn,” I said, and it wasn’t a suggestion.

She lay back on the bed and raised her arms to pull me down.

No, baby. I’m in charge.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” I said. “My turn, remember? Pull your knees up.”

“Yes, sir!” she barked, and threw a salute.

God, I loved the way her tits bounced when she did that.

“Are you mocking the US Marine Corps, lady?” I pretended to snarl.

“Why? What are you going to do about it?” she asked, a challenge in her voice.

You’ll see. Fuck, yeah!

She slid her feet up the bed, her knees wide apart. Her vulnerability made her apprehensive—and I was going to give her the tongue-lashing of her life; I’d make her pay for all that teasing. I gave her one more heated look and then my head was between her legs, my hands resting on the soft skin of her inner thighs.

I gave one long lick upwards and she moaned as her body convulsed. It was such a strong reaction even though I’d hardly started. I looked up, met her astonished gaze, and grinned back at her.

I circled my tongue around the nub, then penetrated her as deep as I could go, tasting her, touching her, arousing her until everything she felt ended in primal cries and groans, growing louder.

Needing to get still closer, I hooked my shoulders under her knees and lifted her lower body off the bed so her weight rested on her upper back.

Her orgasm was fast and powerful, but I didn’t stop until her whole body was heated and limp, her face, chest and clit glowing.

I’d done a lot of shit with a lot of women, but seeing my Caro laid out before me like that, I was so fucking turned on that I knew I was a heartbeat away from shooting my bolt. And I couldn’t wait.

I let her hips drop to the bed, then positioned myself over her.

“I’ve waited a very long time for this,” I said. Ten fucking years.

I pushed inside her, increasing the pleasure, entering into her soft, wet pussy, inch by slow inch.

“Fuck, you feel so good, Caro. I can feel you all around me. So fucking tight!”

God, this was really familiar. How could it have been 10 years and still feel like it all happened yesterday? My body knew this, here, with her. It was fucking confusing.

She ran her nails lightly down my back again, pressing the tips of her fingers into my muscles.

I was trying to take it slowly, to make it last after all this time, but I couldn’t. My body disengaged from my brain and I started thrusting faster. Caro’s breath was burning across my chest, and I could feel her body trembling again. I looked down, even more aroused to see my dog tags dragging between her breasts, and below, my cock sliding in and out of her. That’s when I lost it. I fucked her hard. I fucked her until there was nothing but sensation joining us.

I stared down into her beautiful brown eyes, eyes that scorched me with their trust, then I kissed her hard. But when she moaned out my name and tilted her hips up to meet me, my body and head exploded at the same time.

She wrapped her legs around me, locking her ankles behind my waist and her pussy clenched, milking every last bit.

My arms give way and I buried my face in her shoulder until my breathing began to return to normal.

After a moment’s silence, I pressed my lips lightly against her neck, then pulled out slowly, holding onto the condom.

Fucking things. They did the job, but it was never as good as going bareback—something I’d only ever done with Caro, and then only a few times.

I rolled onto my back, peeling off the rubber and tossing it into the garbage can.

She still hadn’t spoken and her silence was beginning to unnerve me. So I leaned up on one elbow to look at her, resting my free hand on my stomach and stroking her gently.

“Are you okay?” I asked, planting a quick kiss on the tip of her nose.

She avoided my eyes when she replied.

“Yes, I think so,” she said carefully.

Then she pushed my hand away and sat up.

What the fuck?

“Where are you going?”

“Just to get some water,” she said, still refusing to look at me.

She walked into the bathroom, pushing the door closed.

What the hell had just happened?

A few seconds later, I heard her running water into the sink and I waited for her to come out again, but she didn’t. I rolled out of bed, hesitated for a second then pushed the bathroom door fully open.

She was standing in front of the mirror, a hairbrush held loosely in her hands.

“Caro, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, a weird fake smile on her face. “I’m fine.”

She didn’t look fine. She looked totally freaked out—and her frozen expression was giving me chills.

I took the brush from her hands and carefully brushed out the tangles from her glossy brown hair. It was soft and silky and so familiar—it had haunted my dreams for long enough.

“You have beautiful hair, Caro. I’m glad you kept it long.”

She shrugged, as if my words meant nothing.

“Every now and then I decide to get it cut off, especially after I’ve been somewhere I haven’t been able to shower for a couple of weeks.”

I couldn’t believe she’d even consider it.

“That would be a crime,” I said quietly.

“You can talk!” she snorted, pointing her chin at my buzz cut.

“Believe me, babe, I’d grow it if I could. Maybe I should go to my CO and tell him my girlfriend wants me to…”

Ah shit. So shouldn’t have said that. She wasn’t my girlfriend—I wasn’t anything to her.

She sighed, our attempt at levity gone again, killed by a severe case of foot-in-mouth. I suspected it was terminal.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I keep forgetting which decade I’m in, too. It’s so strange.”

I nodded, relieved that she understood.

“Yeah, this is so weird, I feel the same. It’s as if nothing’s changed but everything’s changed. It’s like being in some crazy time machine. I keep expecting your husband to be banging down the door.”

She winced, and I wanted to kick my own ass.

“Fuck, sorry. I’m doing it again.”

She smiled painfully.

“Oh well, I imagine you’ve had some experience with husbands banging on the door.”

No, I wasn’t taking that hit.

“Don’t, Caro.”

Our eyes met in the mirror, then she pushed past me, back into the bedroom.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Why did I keep on saying the wrong thing? I took a deep breath, then remembered that she’d come in here to get some water. I took the glass from beside the sink and filled it from the faucet.

When I walked back into the bedroom, she was sitting on the bed, her back toward me. I walked around and handed it to her. She took a small sip before placing it on the cabinet.

“Thank you.”

I sat back on the bed, covering my lower half with the sheet. I tried to think of how to explain the confusion I felt—the confusion that she must feel, too. Our relationship, if you could call it that, had fallen apart 10 years ago, and now we were trying to fix it based on an hour of sex? Even I knew it would take more than that.

“Caro, I know this is fucking weird but it’s good, too, isn’t it? I mean, not everyone gets a second chance.”

“Is that what this is, a second chance?” she snapped. “But a second chance at what? A second chance to rip ourselves apart again?”

She sounded pissed and made an obvious effort to calm herself.

“Today was fun,” she said carefully, “and tonight was … good…”

Just good? I came so hard I saw stars.

“But the reality is this: I’m based in New York and spend between three and six months of the year away from home. You’re a Marine and go wherever they send you. Presumably this next tour of Afghanistan will be six months or maybe longer? And then where, because let’s face it, Sebastian, the chances of you getting posted to the Corps’ Division of Public Affairs in New York is slim to none—especially with your record. So I’m not sure what sort of ‘second chance’ you have in mind.”